


The Prank

by ashes_and_ashes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, M/M, Remus x Sirius, sirius x remus, wolfstar, wolfstar angst, wolfstar fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-10-30 04:31:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17821934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes_and_ashes/pseuds/ashes_and_ashes
Summary: He’s halfway down the hall when Snape shouts out. “Do you think I don’t know?”He doesn’t bother to look at him. “Know what, love? We all know your hair is absolutely disgusting...”Snape laughs, almost manically, his face bright red as he screams back at Sirius. “Know your secret! The big one, that all you keep.” He spits. “Of course it’d be you. The Queer and the Animal, a match made in heaven.”Sirius whirls. He shoves Snape against the wall, knocking his head against a lamp. “What did you say?”Snape glares back at him. “You know what I said. You and your vileness. Wouldn’t be below you to fuck a werewolf, would it?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Okay, so this is my take on the infamous Prank. I chose to have it set after Sirius ran away from home - you can check out my take on that by reading That Fateful Night. 
> 
> In this fic, I decided to portray Sirius as a more sympathetic character by NOT making him outright tell Snape about Remus.

He sits in the hallway, against the wall. The stone is cool against his back, grounding him against the sea of emotions, the bitterness and resentment and anger.

 

He was at the table, a few hours before the full moon. Him and James and Peter and Remus, huddled at the end of the long table, whispering in hushed voices about tonight’s transformation. There was some sort of staff meeting that night, and they had to make sure that they were hidden and unseen, make sure that they could keep Remus’ secret. It was getting harder, sneaking out of the castle. Too many nosy people, the Slytherins taking more interest in them ever since Sirius ran away. There were the taunts too, mocking smirks and subtle sniggers, whenever they thought Sirius was alone. Hey, Black. Running away again? Cut off from your family name? Mudblood loving fag?

He was good at ignoring them, though, had learned how to over the days and months and years. They couldn’t do anything, not any more, the words like ash and mist compared to the torture he had once faced.

It was still a shock, realizing that he was gone, that they couldn’t hurt him, that he was free. A shock, to realize that there would be no more screaming, no more curses, no more scars carved onto his flesh. He had left, and he wasn’t going to ever look back.

The sounds of the owls cut through his thoughts, thousands of wings echoing in the hall. He always loved this part, the feathers and the beaks and the glowing eyes, rustling paper and the sound of wings. It had always appealed to him, the idea that you could outfly your problems in the sky, amongst the clouds.

He’s staring at the owls when he sees it.

It’s a handsome screech owl, the Black family crest dangling from it’s collar, and Sirius feels his heart drop into his stomach as it swoops above him. James and Peter and Remus are still lost in conversation, the owls ignored, but all Sirius can do is stare as he sees the letter being dropped into his lap.

He can barely remember leaving, shoving his chair under the table and muttering some half-assed excuse to the others. Fleeing, walking aimlessly, up and down the stairs until his legs were burning and his feet were numb. He sank down, against the nearest wall, the letter in his hand creased from his shaking hands.

It was interesting that his family still had that much power over him, that his mother could still make him feel faint with a single letter. He hated that part of himself, hated that he still cared, still have a damn about what they thought of him. With trembling hands, he spits open the seal, pulling out the thin paper with his fingers.

The letter is blunt, to the point, as if they couldn’t be bothered with their useless, wasted son.

_You are no longer part of this family._

_You no longer have any right to our name._

_Never come back to us._

_Never contact us or our son._

_Good riddance._

Across the bottom was scrawled several words, in a hand that could only belong to his mother: _Blood-Traitor Loving Queer._

It hurts, a twisting blade inside of him, knocking the breath out of Sirius and making him feel dizzy with disbelief. It’s ironic, so bitterly and terribly ironic, that the one thing he once wanted more then anything in the world was now right in front of him. He scans the paper again, imagining his father typing it out, his mother scrawling words across it in black ink. They hadn’t bothered to wait, it seemed, perfectly fine to cut their eldest son out of their life.

He sets the paper down, his body shaking against the wall. He tried, tried so damn hard to forget it, to pretend he didn’t care. _Fuck them,_ he whispers to himself _. Fuck them, and their pure-blooded bullshitted way of life. You’re better off without them._

A small splotch of ink catches his eye, and he turns the paper over to find a hastily scribbled message on the back:

_They’re watching me._

_Don’t try and contact me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t come back._

_I’m sorry._

_Reg_

Sirius lets his head fall back, the agony rising up inside of him. He was selfish, so goddamn selfish, abandoning his little brother to his screwed up parents.

“I should have stayed,” he whispers, to the darkness of his knees, his face pressed into them, huddled into a tiny ball. “I should have stayed.”

There are footsteps down the corridor, light and too-casual, and Sirius tenses. He closes his eyes, pulls the cocky smirk and the glinting eyes and the arrogant air onto his face, shoving himself deeper into his shell. He stretches out a leg, shoving the letters into his pocket, the epitome of relaxation.

He winces, internally, as Snape comes up the stairs. He’s sipping wet, covered in mud, and as his eyes fall on Sirius, he raises an eyebrow. “So. The great Sirius, alone in a hallway. What’s wrong, Black? Hiding from your mother?”

 

Sirius scoffs, something vicious twisting inside his chest. He needs something, anything to take the edge off, dull this whirlwind of emotion inside his chest. He can’t stop himself as he replies, “Thought something smelled shitty in here. But it’s just you, isn’t it Snivellus?” Sirius frowns. “Or maybe it’s just the mud.”

Snape laughs, the sound forced and unnatural. “Brave words, coming from a queer-loving faggot.”

Sirius just shrugs, refusing to let the sting show. “You really ought to think of something more creative, Snivellus. You’ve been using that one for years.”

Snape laughs again, the noise seeming to grate inside his chest. “Where’s your boyfriend, Black? And the rest of those mudbloods?” He spits the words like they are daggers, his eyes gleaming with some strange light.

Anger flares inside Sirius’ chest. He knows he should walk away, before he said something truly stupid, but he can’t help it as he says, “Don’t talk about them like that.”

Snape smirks, a mocking grin, pressing his advantage. “Like what? It’s true, you know. Potter and his arrogance, Pettigrew and his softness, and Lupin. Gosh, that boy is daft. Dresses out of the rubbish bin, but you’ll shag anything, won’t you Bla - “

The roaring fills Sirius’ ears, a haze settling over everything. His voice is quiet, cold as ice as he says, “You’re one to talk, hounding over Evans like that. Following her like a bloody dog, hoping that she’ll throw you a scrap of her attention.” He scoffs. “When are you going to learn that Evans won’t date an overgrown, greasy little weasel of a - “

There’s a bang - Sirius feels his head being knocked back as a white-hot streak carved through his face. He laughs it off, though, ignores the pain as he mocks Snape. “And your aim is shitty too. It’s a wonder you can still see Evans, when you can’t even hit me with a binding spell from 2 feet - “

Snape’s voice is heated, anger pouring off him in waves. “Don’t you dare talk about her, she’s out of your league you little fag.”

Sirius just laughs. “Evans? Evans is completely out of my league. She’s amazing, and there is no chance in hell that she’s ever date a shitbag like you. And why would I date her, seeing as I’m just a fag? He shrugs, turning to go, noting the sun setting in the sky. “In any case, have fun, Snivellus. Try washing your hair - don’t drown in all the grease that comes out of it.”

He’s halfway down the hall when Snape shouts out. “Do you think I don’t know?”

He doesn’t bother to look at him. “Know what, love? We all know your hair is absolutely disgusting...”

Snape laughs, almost manically, his face bright red as he screams back at Sirius. “Know your secret! The big one, that all you keep.” He spits. “Of course it’d be you. The Queer and the Animal, a match made in heaven.”

Sirius whirls. He shoves Snape against the wall, knocking his head against a lamp. “What did you say?”

Snape glares back at him. “You know what I said. You and your vileness. Wouldn’t be below you to fuck a werewolf, would it?”

 

It’s as if Sirius has been shot. An icy numbness shoots down, turning his body to lead. Dimly, he can head Snape laughing, laughing as he smirks. “Wasn’t that hard to find out anyways. Remus always missing class the days of the full moon.” He spits. “Wonder how Lily would feel, if she knew her friend was a goddamn werewolf. Thanks for confirming it.”

Sirius slams him against the wall again. Panic is staring to bloom in his chest, a desperate, echoing feeling, terror that Snape knows. “Shut the hell up. He’s not...he’s not an animal.”

Snape just scoffs. “Is he?”

With a roar, Sirius snaps, pressing him against the wall. He punches Snape, square but the jaw, and Snape shrieks as Sirius’s fists crushes his nose. “If you tell anybody....”

Snape smirks. “So I’m right. And look, it’s the full moon tonight.” He gives Sirius a tiny smirk. “Wonder who’s transforming right now?”

“Severus, I swear to god - “

Snape just laughs. “Alliges Duplica.”

Suddenly, Sirius is frozen, collapsing to the ground as Snape laughs. “Thought you were the only one with tricks, yeah Black? Tough.” He steps over him, slamming his heel onto Sirius’ stomach. “I wasn’t sure if Lupin was a werewolf, but you basically confirmed it for me.” He leans closer, where Sirius is panting in pain, fire traveling up and down his limbs. “I wonder how he’s going to feel, when he realizes that you told his deepest secret.”

Sirius tried to speak, to scream, to say anything, but all Snape does is smirk. “Reckon you’ll miss the moon tonight. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find Lupin.”

”No - “ Sirius croaks, but it’s too late. Without another word, Snape sweeps off, leaving Sirius frozen on the ground, his wand kicked to the side as the moon started to rise.


	2. Chapter 2

He paces around the Great Hall, in small, even steps. The night is cold, a brisk wind flowing in through the open window, and James clutches the edges of the invisibility cloak tighter to himself.

They’ve done this enough times to know what to expect. First it was James, always waiting at the base of the stairs. Then, 5 minutes later, Peter, hiding with James under the cloak. Finally, Sirius would come, 10 minutes after Peter, and the three of them would make their way down to the shack.

They had it planned down to the second. Remus never wanted them there, witnessing his transformations, so they were always careful to only arrive after the moon had risen. They would transform into their animagi, spending the night galavanting around the forest, before returning back to the Shrieking Shack at dawn. They couldn’t always make it, all three of them, but there was always at least one person waiting with Remus.

He didn’t mind it, Sirius and Remus dating. He had been worried, privately, that little black crevice in his heart. He hated himself for thinking that, hated that part of himself with every fiber of his body, but he couldn’t stop the thoughts. The fear, that things would change, the dynamics of their quartet would be altered. That he’d become an outcast, locked out of their private relationship.

That hadn’t happened, though, and he was happy for them. Happy, that they finally were able to experience love, that their fucked-up lives hadn’t taken that from them.

James clenches his fist, glancing nervously at the clock. Peter was 2 minutes late, each second stretching out like hours. He still worried, no matter how many times they did this, still worried that something would go wrong, someone would find out, someone would catch them as they snuck out of the building. Fear, not for him but for Remus, the terror that someone may discover his secret, ruin his life.

He hears footsteps coming down the stairs, and he peers up from under the cloak, one hand wrapped loosely around his wand. Out of all of them, Sirius was the most comfortable hexing people, but James was more then prepared to start shooting curses, if only to protect Remus.

There’s a light whistle, and James relaxes, popping his head out from under the cloak. Peter hurried over, bundled warmly in layers of fabric and fur and wool, his face red. “Sorry. I was on my way out, but Marlene cornered me. Almost had to jinx her, but then Dorcas came and bailed me out.”

James frowns. “Bailed you out? Does she know?” He trusted his friends, trusted the girls, but it wasn’t his secret to share. Peter just shrugs. “Bailed me out as in they started snogging against the wall, so....no? Practically sprinted from the tower down, though.” He sighs. “Hope no one saw me.” At the look on James’ face, he quickly backtracks. “I mean, no one saw me. I used a concealment charm. I should be fine.”

“You better be.” James mutters, pulling the cloak over Peter’s head. “Sirius should be down any minute, then we can leave.” He frowns. “Keep it down!”

Peter nods, still panting. “Sorry,” he mumbles, wilting under James’ glare. “I’m trying to be quiet. Chill out, would you? There’s no one here!”

James just shakes his head, peering up the hall again. “Sirius. He should be here by now.”

Peter shrugs. “Maybe he’s held up? Or maybe someone is there, and he can’t get away without being seen?”

“Maybe.” James swears, his hands clenching at his side. “The full is rising soon, though. He better come down soon.”

~

The routine is so familiar that he could do it with his eyes shut.

He shoves the door close, locking it with the slender key around his neck, sliding the key under the small crack between the door and the floor. The room is quiet, with only the wind whistling through the trees providing any noise. It echoes throughout the shack, a lonely howl, and Remus smiles grimly.

He crosses over to the other side of the room, the neatly coiled chains lying in a pile against the wall. The floor pricks his bare feet, the wooden splinters scratching against his skin, and he sits down, stretching his legs out in front of him.

There’s a manacle attached, to the end of the chain, and Remus reaches over. He grasps the restraint in one hand, clasping it around his ankle, making sure that it didn’t touch his flesh. He gives it a twist, the iron spikes popping out, inches away from his skin.

He had learnt that the hard way, the chains and the spikes. The first time he used them, he had cinched the restraint tight, hard against the flesh of his leg.

He remembers his ankle growing, filling up with muscle and fur, swelling up until it became the foot of a wolf. He remembers the iron spikes digging into his skin, ripping through muscle and tendon, causing him agonizing pain, trapping him in a band of metal. He remembers the crushing feeling, his ankle collapsing under the weight of the pins, and Remus shudders.

He still had the scars, an elegant circle of even-spaced holes around his foot. He runs a finger over them now, the raised lumps, attaching the second chain to his leg.

Remus leans back against the wall, chains rattling as he did so. The fear rises up inside of him, metallic and bitter, scorching the back of his throat and Remus grimaces.

The transformations had been getting harder, over the last few moons. Remus was used to pain, was used to the bone-breaking, agonizing tearing of flesh, the feeling of claws bursting through skin, his back being curved and rearranged. He was used to it, was able to bear it, had borne the pain for as long as he could remember, and yet he still trembled, still had to bite his lip to keep his teeth from trembling.

He lets out a shaking breath. His friends were coming. It was the one thing that he took with him through the night, the knowledge that his friends were there, that they wouldn’t let him die. He hated himself, knew he was being a selfish, selfish prick, knew that he was letting them risk their lives for him. He hated it, knew he should tell them to leave him be, but he still couldn’t extinguish that little ball of light inside his chest.

So Remus curls up, nuzzling into the collection of blankets in the corner, and he waits for his friends, his family, to come.

~

Sirius is frozen.

Iron chains, wrapped around his arms, keeping him so perfectly still. He’s still slumped against the wall, back aching from where it was pressed against the hard stone, legs going numb beneath him. His head is frozen too, the hallway where Snape vanished down the only thing that he could see.

His heart pounds in his chest, making the gash in his stomach pulse with blood. He’s terrified, not for himself but for Remus, because Snape was coming for him and he could t warn him.

Panic starts to deep in, coating his mouth in metal, making his head pound. He’s dizzy, though he’s not sure if that is blood loss or a side reaction of the spell, the ground swooping in waves underneath him. His limbs hurt, from being cramped in this frozen position for too long.

The scars on his back burn too, in unison, filling his body on fire. He knows what this is, has read about the symptoms. It was a side effect from all the dark magic used on him, all of the Crucios and Laceros, the magic extracting its toll from his body. He knows it will only get worse, with every passing minute exposed to dark magic.

He grits his teeth. He’s useless, here, lying in the corridor frozen. He’s regained a small amount of mobility, mainly in his face, and he closes his eyes. With a grunt, he pushes back against the magic.

Pain flares along his back, everything throbbing in unison. It’s like he’s pressing his body against hard iron, brushing and biting and tearing, and Sirius screams through his teeth as the agony washes over him. He keeps pushing, though, pushes until his vision goes fuzzy and he knows he’s about to pass out.

He sinks back onto the floor, panting. His head pounds more intensely now, and he lets out a small moan. He can just barely see the sky out of the corner of his eye, through the window high up in the wall. The moon is almost fully up, glowing against the darkness, and his heart clenches.

He closes his eyes again, preparing to push harder against the bond, to try to break it or die trying when he hears the footsteps. They are smooth, even, and he bites his lip. _I swear, if Snape is back again...._

The thought is broken off when he sees the person. There’s a brief feeling of release, of gratitude, as he sees Regulus round the corner. His hair is ruffled, his robes crumpled, and he looks young in a way he rarely did, almost like the baby brother Sirius used to have. His wand dangles loosely in pale fingers,his hand clenched in a fist, and Sirius’ voice tears open his throat as he calls, “Reg!”

Regulus whips around, wand raised as he glares down the corridor, and Sirius swallows hard. “Regulus. Please. Here.”

Regulus turns, his gaze snagging on Sirius, and he swears. “Shit, Sirius.” He’s on his knees in an instant, rubbing cool fingers over Sirius’ arm. “Can you move?”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “If I could, I wouldn’t be sitting here.” He swallows. “How did you find me.”

Regulus purses his lips, but moves his wand in some complicated pattern, muttering under his breath as he did. “Just had...a feeling. An ache, under my skin.”

Sirius can almost feel the pain disappearing, sliding off him like water as Regulus moves his wand.He rolls his shoulders back. “Thanks, Reg.”

Regulus looks up. “Snape?”

“Who else?” Sirius’ voice is bitter as he stands. The world sways under his feet, and he braces himself against the wall. He takes a deep breath, wincing slightly, and Regulus frowns. “You should go the the Hospital Wing or something - “

“No time,” Sirius gasps, stumbling forward. “Reg, please, I need you to listen to me.” He takes a shuddering breath. “Snape knows about Remus. I need to tell James.” He swallows, spitting out a bit of blood. “Please. You need to delay them. Stop anyone else from coming after us. Please, you need to trust me.”

Regulus raises an eyebrow. “Stop who from coming?”

Sirius is already hobbling down the hall, trying not to moan as the pain rushed up his body. “Anyone. Any Slytherin. If you don’t want to betray your house, lock the doors, do something, but please, you can’t let anyone know where we are.” He pauses. “Please, Regulus. I’m begging you. I’ll be in your debt. I’ll do anything. Anything.”

Regulus’ face is motionless, expressionless, a statue. He shrugs. “The debt is already paid, Sirius. Go.”

Sirius doesn’t bother to thank Regulus, ignores the pain in his back and legs and stomach. He practically sprints down the halls, heart pounding as the moon begins to arc across the night sky.

~

Peter is trembling.

He’s shaking, like a leaf, even under all the layers of clothing. He knows James is angry, can see it from the way he swears, grinding his teeth together. Sirius is more then 15 minutes late, the moon almost at his peak, and James is bristling with anger.

To be completely honest, Peter is glad for the delay. He knows he’s in Gryffindor, knows he should be fearless, but every night he is terrified when he does this. Terrified of being caught, of being punished, of being expelled from Hogwarts.

It’s Peter’s deepest fear, the knowledge that he may be nothing. Barely a mark on the long scroll of history, a small streak of lead, with no one to remember him once he was gone. He hated that, the idea that he was nothing but dust and dirt, that he would be useless in the grand scheme of things.

James swears, biting his thumb. “Jesus Christ, Sirius, where the fuck are you?”

Peter places his hand on James’ shoulder, trying not to be offended when he angrily brushes it off. “I’m sure he’s coming, Prongs. He’s trying.”

James rolls his eyes. “This is classic Sirius. Probably absorbed in something, to selfish to realize that it’s one of the biggest fulls yet - “

Peter doesn’t think so. Sirius was one of the most selfless people he knew, especially when it came to him and James and Remus. He didn’t think Sirius had forgotten, not when there was so much at stake. “Sirius wouldn’t just forget, James. He’s probably stuck somewhere.”

“Remus is going to be clawing his skin off in less then 15 minutes,” James spits. “We don’t have time for him to be fucking stuck somewhere - “

He bolts up, Peter scrambling to his feet as he sees Sirius stumbling in. His face is pale, eyes half closed, one foot dragging as he approaches them.

James glares at him, pure rage filling his face. “Where the _fuck_ were you? You are like 24 minutes late, Remus is about to transform you selfish piece of - “

Peter sees it before James does, the slight way Sirius sways on his feet. He leaps forward as Sirius falls, barely managing to slide his hands under Sirius’ head before he drops, collapsing against the floor.

James’ rage instantly disappears, replaced with horror. “Sirius. Sirius!”

Sirius groans. He turns onto his side, cracking open one eye. “Prongs. Wormy.” He coughs, spitting a glob of blood over his shoulder. “Listen to me.”

Peter clears his throat. “Pads. We should get you to the hospital wing - “

“Fuck the hospital wing.” Sirius’ voice is urgent. “Shut up and listen! Snape knows! He knows about Remus!” He coughs again, hacking up more blood, barely noticing James’ stricken face. Dread seeps into Peter’s gut, making him feel nauseous as Sirius whispers, “He found out from me. You have to go and help him. He’s going after Remus.”

Peter sees it before Sirius does. “James, James, wait - !”

James turns away, shoving the doors open before sprinting down the path. Peter swallows, turning back to Sirius. “Sirius. Sirius, help me, what do I need to do?”

Sirius coughs. “Get....Dumbledore....”

And Peter stands there, utterly frozen as he watches Sirius pass out in his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

He’s sprinting, down the gravel path into the forest. Branches scrape at his face, drawing blood as James runs, hurtling over logs and rocks, dodging trees.

Lily called it his Quidditch Brain, after that one memorable game when he had refused to stop playing after breaking his ribs. He had been flying, quaffle in hand when a bludger had hit him from the side. He had felt his ribs crack, the dull pain radiating through his body, dropping the quaffle onto the court below as he swore.

He hid the pain, though, gritted his teeth and continued the match, and it was only after they had won, when he had landed on the ground and had been handed the House Trophy did he allow himself to pass out.

He woke up in the hospital wing, cheek stinging from Lily’s slap. “What the actual hell, Potter? What is it with you and your....your Quidditch Brain?”

The name had stuck, jokingly used now amongst his friends, that moment when your mind went blank, all pain was forgotten and the only thing in mind was to win.

It’s like this now, James sprinting as fast as he could through the trees. There is dirt all over him, cuts bleeding on his face and up his legs, but he ignores it. He’s panting, each breath burning his lungs as he runs, pushing himself harder, faster, because the moon is about to rise and _where the fuck was Snape?_

He flings himself around a corner, grabbing onto a tree to keep himself from falling off onto a pile of jagged rocks. The bark tears at his hands, and James grits his teeth. He’s running downhill now, the stones jumping at his feet, running so fast the forest streaks around him in a blur.

There was a conversation he had with Remus, a few months ago. Sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the lake. They were drinking, the bottle between them, firewhisky and muggle spirits.

Remus had shrugged. “You and Sirius are so similar, you know.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Really? In what way?”

Remus just smiled. “You’re both reckless. You’d charge into a fire to save someone, without considering your own life.”

James rolled his eyes. “I though you were gonna say we both had incredible fashion sense.” He smirks. “Besides, you’d do the same, Moony.”

Remus shook his head. “No. I’m a coward. I’d delay, find a way to extinguish the flames. Yes, I would try to save the person, but not at the risk of my own life.”

“That’s not being a coward,” James said. “That’s being smart. You’ll outlive both of us, Moony. You’ll see.”

And he knows, it’s classic stupidity. Remus was a werewolf, deadly to humans and James was sprinting right into his habitat, all to save someone he really did not like. He scoffs at himself, shakes his head when suddenly, he feels his ankle twist underneath him. Pain shoots through his leg, and James curses as he trips, rolling off the path and down the hill, directly towards the Whomping Willow.

~

He carefully picks his way down the pile of rocks, brushing the vines off each stone. It was cold, the wind whistling through the trees, and Severus frowns up at the night sky.

He pulls the watch out of his pocket. 30 minutes until the moon fully rises.

He pockets the watch, reaching down to step on another outcropping stone. He’s close now, the Whomping Willow looming ahead, branches swaying above him. It’s eerie, being outside when it was this dark, the sounds of the animals all around him.

Severus closes his eyes, fear striking deep within him. He swallows, hard, trying to banish that sinking feeling inside of him, trying to ignore those instincts that screamed run!

_Be brave_ , he whispers to himself. _Do it for Lily._

Lily. Just mouthing her name makes him feel braver, lights something warm inside of him. _Lily_.

He wasn’t sure what made him love her, what caused him to suddenly fall head-over-heels for her. Maybe it was because she brave, because she was beautiful, because she was headstrong and intelligent and so, so courageous. Maybe it was because she was the opposite of him, popular and talented and loved by everyone. Maybe it was just because she was the first person who truly looked at him, like he was a human being.

Severus smiles. He did it for her. Everything he did was for her.

He keeps climbing down, the rocks scraping at his feet. If he listens hard enough, he thinks he can just barely make out moans, the bowls of an animal in pain.

He curls his lip. Who would have thought, that Lupin was a half-breed? A bloodthirsty monster, a parasite upon humanity? Werewolves were disgusting creatures, requiring the healthy lives of others to properly function.

He couldn’t believe Lily was friends with one.

Severus wasn’t a fool. He’s heard the conversations, between other Slytherins who’s parents served the Dark Lord. The mudblood come first, they hissed. First the mudbloods, then the half-breeds, and then all who do it serve him!

Severus wasn’t a fool. He knew that Lily was in danger, simply because of her blood. He knew that he was a good enough potions master, was good enough to serve the Dark Lord, was good enough to keep her alive. All he had to do was convince her to associate with the right crowd, so her allegiances would never be questioned.

Everything he did was for her. The least she could do was show some appreciation.

He’s stretching out his leg, trying to step into that last rock when he hears a crash. Severus just has enough time to look up, to see the dark figure falling towards him before he lets go.

He’s falling, the slight drop in his stomach before he hits the ground hard. He screams, feeling his arm being cut open, and Severus scrabbled for his wand as the dark figure hisses.

The light shines, revealing glasses and messy black hair and brown eyes and Snape curses as James Potter takes a shaky breath. “Severus. Stop.”

Severus laughs. There is something building up inside of him, rage and disbelief. Lily really chose Potter, a thick-headed, unintelligent ass over him? He shakes his head. “Potter. Get out of my way.”

Potter just swallows, hard. He looks pale, cuts all over his face, and Severus reckons that he probably sprained his ankle as Potter takes a hesitant step forward. “Snape. You don’t know what’s in there.”

Severus laughs. “Oh really?” He smirks. “Is it a monster? Why Lily would choose to associate with him, I don’t know.”

James winces. “This is about Lily?”

“Shut up.” Snape hisses. “You don’t deserve her, you piece of - “

“And you do?” The challenge hangs in the air between them, Potter’s eyes hard. “You deserve her?”

“She’s not a prize.” Snape spits the words. “And yes, if she knows what’s good for her, she should choose me - “

“Knows what’s good for her?” Potter’s voice is quiet. “She can make her own choice, Severus. Go back. We can forget this ever happened.”

Severus just laughs. “Bargaining now, Potter?” He raises his wand. “Too late. I’m going to ask you one last time. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”

Potter shakes his head, raising his wand. “Over my dead body.”

With an eye roll, Severus strikes, curses flying from his wand as the moon inches over the sky.

~

His footsteps echo along the corridor as Regulus strides down it. He keeps his feet unhurried, steady as he walks, towards the Slytherin common room.

He’s had practice, at wiping his face of emotions and he does this now, pasting a small smirk on his face. His throat is dry, raw and gravelly and Regulus winces.

He never knew how badly Sirius was hurt, the type of scars he carried until just now. He recognized the spell Snape used, the type of dark magic it was. _Vermis_ , designed to overload the nerve systems, using previously existing dark magic to cripple the body. He didn’t know how Snape knew about it, didn’t know how Snape was able to target Sirius with such ruthless precision.

He sighs, turning the corridor. Please just let this night be over.

He enters the common room, the familiar green and silver silks comforting. He’s just about to flop onto one of the couches when the crowd of people catches his eye.

He’s over there in a flash, snatching the paper out of Avery’s hand. It’s simple, a small message scrawled in Snape’s elegant writing: Meet me at the Whomping Willow at midnight.

He frowns at Avery. “Where did you get this?”

Avery shrugs. “Fire message. Just...appeared.” He smirks. “Nott’s gone to get some invisibility potion. We’re all going.”

“How long ago did Nott leave?” Regulus keeps his voice casual, keeps it light even though his heart is pounding. The pieces click together in his head. Sirius injured in the corridor. Full moon. Remus. James. Lily. Snape.

Avery rolls his eyes. “Hell if I know. 5 minutes?” He frowns. “Why? Going to hex him?” He jeers. “Trying to save your faggot brother?”

Regulus shrugs, projecting an image of carelessness as he swallows. “Sirius is no brother of mine.” The words burn in his throat, scorching and damning as he shrugs. “What do I care about that blood traitor?” He turns on his heel, walking out the door, calling over his shoulder at the group of Slytherins. “Do what you want with him. I don’t care.”

He walks for a few more minutes, causally strolling until he reaches the staircase. Without a backwards glance, Regulus breaks into a run.

~

Peter frowns up at the staircase.

He glances down, where Sirius lies crumpled on the floor. Peter is too small, too weak to carry Sirius, and he can only handle so many levitating charms before he wanted to pass out.

He sighs. Sirius looked bad. His face was pale, eyes fastened shut, small moans escaping from bloodless lips as Peter lifted him over the carpets and through the hallways.

Peter swears, kicking one of the steps. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t a hero like James, a rebel like Sirius, a prodigy like Remus. He was just...Peter, normal and forgotten, the sheep amongst the wolves.

He turns, preparing to lug Sirius up the staircase to the hospital wing when he hears the footsteps.

He jumps, yanking his wand out, holding it out in front of him as Regulus Black rounds the corner. Peter swallows, hard, terror flooding his stomach. He wasn’t good at face-to-face dueling, preferred finding somewhere up high to shoot from. He takes a shuddering breath, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Oh, hey Regulus! Sorry, Sirius is drunk and I’m just trying to get him up the stairs - “

“Save it.” Regulus’ voice is cold. “I know what happened.”

He steps forward, and Peter flinches, blocking Sirius with his body. “What do you want?”

Amusement passes over Regulus’ face as he shrugs. “He’s family, Peter. What else would I want to do with him?”

Peter frowns. “We know what your mother did to him, while you stood back and watched.” He glares. “Don’t pretend like you suddenly love him.”

There’s something like pain that flickers over Regulus’ face, something open and heartbroken and bitter. Peter furrows his brow, wondering if he should say something before the emotions are gone, Regulus’ face like a blank map. His voice is tight, barely controlled. “I don’t need to pretend. I always have loved him.”

Peter scoffs. “Easy for you to say. He’s gone now. He’s not coming back to cover your cowardly ass - “

“Don’t.” Regulus’ voice is raw. “You don’t know anything about this. Anything. So don’t even presume you know what I have done to save him.”

Peter splutters, about to say something when Regulus cuts him off. “Shut up and listen to me. Listen, Pettigrew. Snape sent a fire message. A group of Slytherins are going down the the Whomping Willow.”

Peter flinches, panic rising in him. His voice sounds choked when he speaks. “You know - “

Regulus shakes his head. “Now’s not the time. You need to go. You need to get your best fighters in Gryffindor and you need to intercept them before they exit the castle. I’ll take Sirius.”

Peter frowns. “Why...why would you help us? You’re part of them!”

There’s something bitter on Regulus’ face as he smiles. “He’s my brother.”

Peter opens his mouth, but Regulus cuts him off. “I’ll get him to the hospital wing. Get your friends.”

Peter nods, then takes off. He sprints through the castle, up the stairs and around he corner. He’s never run this fast in his life, knowing that every second he took was another second that was lost. He bursts into the common room, startling Lily. “Peter! What the hell - “

Peter interrupts her, panting heavily. “Marlene...Dorcas...where are they?”

“In bed.” Lily frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Wake them...up...” Peter splutters, gasping as Lily grabs his arm. “Remus?”

“How do you - “ Peter pulls away from her. “You know too?”

“Since Second Year.” Lily sets her jaw. “Who’s hurt?”

Peter swallows, hard. “Snape found out. He’s gone down to see him. James went after him. A bunch of Slytherins are going down as well. We need to stop them.”

The blood has drained from Lily’s face as she nods. “I’ll get Marlene and Dorcas. You grab our cloaks.”

Peter gasps, catching his breath as Lily races up the staircase to the girl’s dorm. He glances out the window, at the moon high in the sky and bites his lip. _We’re so screwed._

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus shakes the memory from his head. The moon was almost fully risen, he can feel it, a deep ache in his bones. The familiar buzzing fills his head, and he had just enough sense to shove the heavy leather bit into his mouth. They had started forcing him to wear that, after he nearly bit his tongue off trying not to scream. He feels heavy, like he’s about to sink into the ground, and dimly he can feel his arms stretching, the bones starting to splinter.  
> His last conscious thought as he drifted off was that at least the others would be coming soon.

Remus’ knees ache.

They burn, from where his legs were jammed against the hard wooden floor. Splinters dig into his flesh, his legs skewered at an awkward angle. He shifts, wincing, trying to find a position that didn’t put his entire body weight onto his kneecaps. The chains jangle with every movement, so loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Chains. 11 of them to be exact, 3 on each leg, 2 on each arm, one thick one around his torso. It contorts him, pulls at his limbs, making him look like some lamb to be slaughtered. 

He hates it, hates the feeling of being so restricted, hates the feeling of his limbs being stretched out and held back. They only started doing this about 2 months ago, when The Wolf managed to bite through one of the ropes they used to bind him instead.

The thought still makes his skin crawl, makes his body go cold. So close, so damn close to escaping. They had warned him, warned him that the chains would be more painful, that it would potentially leave long-lasting damage, but Remus didn’t care. Better him than anyone else.

He remembers what Lily told him, ages ago. It was some muggle thing, the idea of reincarnation, that the actions in your previous life dictated how easy your current life was. 

He figured he must have fucked up pretty badly to end up like this. 

With a sigh, Remus shifts again. He winces at the sharp pain the travels up his kneecaps, and takes a shaking breath. It was always the hardest part, the waiting. The knowledge, that excruciating pain was coming, that his body would be broken down and rebuilt. He can feel his breath start to quicken, his heart start to pound, and Remus forces in a tight breath. His back is sore, from all the thrashing he did last night, his ribs aching and his neck itchy.

It was always the same nightmare, every single damn time. Remus waking up, naked in some strange forest, covered in blood. Beside him lay Sirius, face down, hair strewn about. 

It was always the scariest part about the nightmare, the fact that he could be sleeping, that Sirius was merely laying down for a nap. He still remembers it, the sigh of relief, the tension gone as he climbed over, rolled Sirius’ body so that his face was looking up at the sky.

His eyes were always yellow, the tell tale sign of lycanthropy. Every single time, they were always yellow.

Remus shakes the memory from his head. The moon was almost fully risen, he can feel it, a deep ache in his bones. The familiar buzzing fills his head, and he had just enough sense to shove the heavy leather bit into his mouth. They had started forcing him to wear that, after he nearly bit his tongue off trying not to scream. He feels heavy, like he’s about to sink into the ground, and dimly he can feel his arms stretching, the bones starting to splinter.

His last conscious thought as he drifted off was that at least the others would be coming soon.

~

Severus was furious.

They stand at the base of the tree, James Potter between him and the werewolf. His hair is messy, his face bloodied like he threw himself down a damn cliff just to ruin Severus’ plans.

Really, he didn’t know what Lily saw in him.

He shoots another curse, a dual-bolt one, two separate jets speeding towards Potter’s body. Potter twists, evading one, but the second bolt grazes his arm. He winces, dropping his wand to press his hand against the wound, and Severus laughs. 

“Not so good without McKinnon and Black, are you?” The words feel good, coming out of his mouth, a chance to strike down the mighty James Potter. “In fact, I’d say you’re rather useless at dueling, considering you haven’t tried to attack me once.”

“That’s not me being useless at dueling,” Potter hisses through gritted teeth. “That’s me trying not to be a fucking prick.”

“Language.” Snape gives him a mocking smile, one that he knows will set his blood boiling. “How Lily fell for you, I don’t know.”

Potter raises his head. Anger sparks in his eyes, an irrational rage, and Severus unintentionally takes a step back. “It’s all about Lily, isn’t it. Every single damn thing you do. You’re obsessed, Snape. Let it go.”

“Shut up,” Severus hisses. “What do you know? Lily is  _ mine _ . I was the one who introduced this whole world to her. Without me, she wouldn’t even be at Hogwarts, she’d rolling in the dirt with her mudblood of a sister.”

Potter shakes his head. “Are you really stupid enough to believe that?”

“Be quiet!” Severus flicks his wand, sending another bolt at Potter’s head. It slices open his cheek, making him bleed, yet he doesn’t lower his gaze. “She would have gotten in anyways, Snape. She’s a full blooded witch.” 

“Lily is  _ mine _ .” Severus hurls the words out, hoping to wound Potter, wipe that infuriating look off his face. “She’s  _ mine _ . You don’t get to lay claim to her, you stinking, goddamn - “

“She’s not an object, Snape. She’s not some prize to be won! She’s an actual human being who can make her own damn choices without some psychopath lusting after her every damn second of every damn day - “

“Easy for you to say.” Severus is fuming, his vision going red. “Tell me, Potter. Let’s pretend Lily decided to date me. Let’s pretend she started associating with all my friends, became part of my little group. My own set of Marauders, you might say. Tell me you wouldn’t do everything in your power to take her away. Tell me you wouldn’t do everything you could to convince her to come back to you, to convince her to do what’s right. Tell me.”

Potter swallows, meets his gaze. “I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t do any of it.”

“Bullshit,” Severus hisses, but Potter keeps talking. “If Lily came up to me right now and said, ‘I’m dating Snape,’ then I would accept that. Because Lily is her own damn person, she’s not a prize to be won. If she told me that she was dating you, I’d step aside. Because I love her, I love her with all my heart and I want her to be happy. Even if it kills me, I want her to be happy.”

Severus splutters, trying to cut in but Potter ignores him. “That’s all I want in the end. I just want her to be happy.”

“She deserves better than you - “

Potter laughs. “Lily? Lily deserves better then all of us, then both me and you, Severus. She deserves the world, freedom, everything. But you know what she deserves most of all? Her own life. And I don’t know how you think you can give her that when you’re constantly surrounded by people who want to murder her and her family.”

“They’re not…” Severus curses. “You know you can’t win with facts alone. You’re twisting the story. She’s special, they’ll spare her - “

Potter’s voice is quiet. “Do you honestly think she would let you do that? She’s not some meek housewife, Severus. She’s a warrior, a fighter. And you can bet every damn coin you have that she’ll fight to the end to take your Dark Lord down.”

Severus is frantic now, spit flying everywhere as he screams at Potter. “She associates with werewolves! That monster is more likely to kill her then the Dark Lord will! Don’t think I don’t know about Black and Lupin, I know everything!”

Potter shakes his head. “This is between you, me and Lily, Severus. Don’t drag them into this - “

“Fuck off,” Severus spits. “Just shut up!” 

With a bang, his wand goes off, hitting Potter straight in the face. He falls to the round, paralysed, blood welling up from his shattered nose as Severus screams. “I hope you’re watching this! I hope you’re watching everything because your precious side will fall. We will win and Lily will be by my side and you can’t do jack about it!” 

With a mad laugh, Severus straightens up. He glances at the moon in the sky, then turns his attention to the Whomping Willow.

~

Marlene was pissed.

She had spent two weeks planning this, her and Dorcas’ 6 month anniversary. She had stolen Firewhisky from the wine cellar, cakes from the house elves. She had pestered Sirius into telling her a secret spot on the roof, and she had even lit candles up and down the tower. In all, she was hoping maybe so gratitude and hopefully a shag.

Instead she got an frantic Lily Evans barging into their dormitory just as she and Dorcas were finally starting to do some heavy kissing. 

“What,” Marlene sighs, “The fuck are you doing?” She holds her hands up, the fingers only a few inches apart. “This close. I was  _ this _ close to finally being able to get some action and you choose  _ now _ to barge in on us?” 

Lily opens her mouth, no doubt to say some reprimanding remark, but Marlene cuts her off. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m trying to laid. Unless you want to join us in a three-way orgy?” She ignores Dorcas’ slap, eyes turned to Lily who was deathly pale. From beside her, Dorcas frowns. “Lily? Are you okay?”

Lily shakes her head. “It’s not me. It’s James and Sirius and Remus.”

“What happened.” Marlene is deadly serious now, her mind instantly going blank. Beside her, Dorcas grips her arm, a steadying presence in the tide of emotion that was slowly gripping her body. “Are they okay?”

Lily shakes her head. “No.”

“What…” Dorcas trails off. “Is everything - “

“No time to explain.” Lily frantically brushes her hair behind her ear. “There’s a group of Slytherins coming down. We can’t let them get to the Whomping Willow, I’ll explain later I promise - “

“Shit.” Marlene risks a glance over at her girlfriend, who’s jaw had gone slack. “Remus.” 

“What about him?” Marlene furrows her brow. “What happened to him, Lils?”

Lily just shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears. “I - “

Dorcas looks up. “He’s a werewolf.”

Marlene freezes. The words echo in her head, mixing into each other like waves beating on the cliffs.  _ He’s a werewolf he’s a werewolf he’s a werewolf. _

Lily shakes her head. “No, Marls, please, he’s still the same person - “

“The fuck with that.” Marlene shakes her head. “Jesus Christ. How did I miss that? He’s gone every full moon, his scars - “

Dorcas’ voice is hoarse. “He transformed all alone.”

Lily looks like she wants to argue, but she shakes her head. “I’ll explain later, I promise, but we need to go. We need to stop those Slytherins and you’re the best duelers I could think off - “

She doesn’t even need to finish her sentence. With a string of curse words, Marlene flies out the door, Dorcas right next to her as they head out of Gryffindor Tower.

~

Sirius was heavy.

Regulus’ arms ache, his lungs burning as he scowls up at the next flight of stairs. He’s exhausted, from dragging his body through the castle, trying so hard to get to the hospital wing before Sirius died or something. He groans, arms straining as he managed to pull Sirius up one more step.

He wonders if this was what Sirius did, the night he left. Arms burning, dragging himself up the stone staircase at their home, trying desperately not to scream.

Remus has vanished the blood himself. He knew firsthand what his mother did to Sirius.

How many times did Sirius cover him? How many times did he sit back, let Sirius be hurt, how many times did he fall asleep listening to Sirius’ screams? How many times has he crouched, over Sirius’ unconscious body, trying to heal as much as he could before his mother walked down the stairs? 

They always protected each other, the two of them, even if they didn’t know it.

Regulus pulls Sirius up another step, panting. He didn’t know what spell Snape had used on his brother, knew only that it reacted with all the dark magic already embedded in Sirius’ flesh. He couldn’t risk using magic, couldn’t risk engaging the dark spell. 

He pauses, panting hard. Sirius was still unconscious, his breathing sharp and thready, his pulse weak against his neck. His scars stood out in sharp relief against his skin, hundreds of straight lines and deep cuts. 

Regulus knew them, knew them almost as well as the unmarked skin on his own back. A lifetime of shielding him, of taking the brunt of his mother’s wrath. She had marked him, claimed him as his own, and yet he had still managed to break away. 

He grits his teeth, pulling Sirius up the final stairs. The hospital wing is just down the corridor, and Regulus grunts as he drags his brother’s body down. He knew Sirius hated going to the hospital wing, knew he hated showing all the scars and lumps and raised flesh, but he couldn’t help it. 

He yanks the doors open, yelling out in the empty room. “Please. Please, my brother was injured, someone help me!”

There’s a bustle from one of the rooms, a very tired looking Madame Pomfrey approaching him. “What is going on? Regulus, what are you doing here - “

With a gasp, her eyes fell on Sirius, unconscious on the floor. “By God! What happened to him?”

Regulus shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“Get him on the bed.” Madame Pomfrey was already rolling back her sleeves, her wand in hand. Regulus nods, lifting his brother’s broken body onto the clean white sheets, and Madame Pomfrey sighs. She touches the wand to Sirius’ back, making him release a long groan, and Regulus starts. “You’re hurting him!”

Pomfrey ignores him, heading straight to the supply room. “Fetch Professor McGonagall,” she tells him. “You know where her office is. Tell her that one of her students has been hit with a Class 3 Dark Spell, and she needs to get here fast.”

Regulus shakes his head. “I want to stay with my brother - “

Madame Pomfrey cuts him off. “If you don’t get Minerva, I’m not sure if you’ll have a brother, Regulus.” She flicks her wand again. “Go!”

With a curse, Regulus nods, sprinting out of the hospital wing to find the Head of Gryffindor House.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wolf is hungry.  
> Starving, famished, ravenous.   
> There are chains everywhere, on it’s legs and feet, binding it to the ground. Spikes line the inner ridges of the chains, just brushing against the Wolf’s ankles.  
> It snarls, remembering a time when those spikes sliced into it’s ankles, sending lines of pain up it’s leg. The Wolf growls at the chains, the moonlight elongating it’s shadow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this is okay! I wrote it really late last night, so it’s probably not the best :)  
> Enjoy!

He lies on the ground, the world a dull blur.

James hisses, his glasses dangling off his face. One of the lenses are cracked, his eyes straining in the darkness. The taste of dirt and blood and salt fills his mouth. 

He takes a shuddering breath. His nose is bleeding - he can feel it seep out of one nostril. It covers the ground underneath him, soaks his robes with red, crusting over his lips. 

He bites his cheek, swearing, then pushes himself off the ground.

Or he tries to. 

His arms won’t move. Won’t even twitch, won’t even react. They’re numb, aching and cold, and James starts to panic.

“Don’t even bother.” Snape barely glances at him, the disgust clear in his voice. “You don’t even know the spell I used. You’re not going to be able to break it.”

James closes his eyes, tuning out the words. His heart hammers in his chest, head throbbing with every beat, a distant, whining echo. He tried to push himself off the ground again, tries to bend his leg or move his head or just  _ take a fucking breath _ . Metal chains around his body, locking him down, squeezing him tighter and tighter with every exhale. 

He can barely see Snape, out of the corner of his eyes. A single, black figure, blurry and out of focus, muttering spells under his breath as the Whomping Willow groaned above him. He looked like a shadow, something easily underestimated until it bit you in the ass.

James swallows, hard, Snape’s words replaying in his head. _ “Tell me, Potter. Let’s pretend Lily decided to date me. Let’s pretend she started associating with all my friends, became part of my little group. My own set of Marauders, you might say. Tell me you wouldn’t do everything in your power to take her away. Tell me you wouldn’t do everything you could to convince her to come back to you, to convince her to do what’s right. Tell me.” _

It was so easy to say the words, to claim a set of morals. So easy to convince yourself that you were the hero, the protagonist of the story, the savior of the land. 

Everyone wanted to be the hero. Even the villains. 

He tries to imagine it now. Lily hating him, dating Snape, her closest friends Death Eaters. That beautiful, fiery soul taken away from him, nothing but scorn and contempt whenever she saw him.

It hurt. Badly, like something had been ripped out of him, a gaping, empty hole in the middle of his chest. James gasps, blood still flowing from his nostril, the world starting to spin around him.

What wouldn’t he do, to protect Lily? What wouldn’t he do, to save her? He’d do anything for her, fight in a million battles and through a billion people. He’d do anything to make her happy. 

_ Even give her up? _

He shakes his head, trying to get rid of that tiny voice. Of course he would. Anything that would better Lily’s life. He’d kill himself to make it happen.

_ Would you though _ ? The voice whispers louder.  _ Would you? _

He grits his teeth, straining against the bonds, hating the way they seemed to slice into his skin. Pain erupts, like he’s been held over a fire, but James keeps pushing against it. Snape’s speaking to him, probably gloating, but James doesn’t listen. 

It’s strange. He’s only 16, and yet he’s surrounded with people who’ve suffered so much more then him. He thinks of Sirius with his curse-wounds and Remus with his scars and James grits his teeth, pushes harder against the invisible chains. He knows he’s the lucky one, someone fortunate enough to come from a happy family with a comfortable fortune, knows that compared to his friends he’s never really suffered. Not like them.

But in the end, James isn’t Sirius, isn’t Remus. The world is still spinning around him, a thousand stars blurring together, and James feels his eyes start to shut as he drifts off.

 

~

 

Lily is furious. 

They hurtle down the stairs, 3 at a time, her and Peter and Marlene and Dorcas. It’s hours past curfew, the hallways dark and silent, but they don’t bother to mask their footsteps as they sprint for the great hall. Stair after stair, corner after corner, a race against the rising of the moon. 

How long has she known, that Remus was a werewolf? How long has she made up excuses when people asked her, brought him up tea when he was lying in bed? 

She knew in 2nd year, the dots all falling into place. The scars, the sickness, the way Remus could barely get out of bed afterwards.

She remembers asking Mary, casually in the hallway. “Are werewolves really that bad?”

Mary gave her a strange look. “Oh, I forgot you were a muggle, Lils. Yeah. They’re monsters.”

The words spin around in her head as she sprints down the stairs.  _ Monster. Monster. Werewolves are monsters. _

She knew Remus wasn’t. She’s murder anyone who thought he was.

Lily was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she almost missed Dorcas’ hiss. “Filch!”

With a curse, Marlene grabs Lily, pressing her against the wall. Peter let out a squeak, ducking behind the door frame. “Oh no! I forgot about him!”

Marlene snaps her fingers. “Peter. Pete, don’t you dare have a heart attack on us. Give me another way to get to the great hall  _ now _ .”

Peter splutters, looking down at his feet. “I don’t know, Sirius is the one who’s good at this stuff, I don’t even have the bloody map…”

Marlene rolls her eyes. “Pete - “

“Marls.” Lily shoots her a look, moving to kneel in front of Peter. “Hey. Look, you need to think, Peter. Think. What’s another way to get to the hall from the fourth floor?”

“I can’t - “

Lily ignores him. “Are there any secret passageways or stairwells or anything like that?”

Peter coughs. “Sirius - “

Dorcas shakes her head. “There won’t be a Sirius. Or a Remus. Or a James. Unless you find us a way down now, a bunch of pissed-off Slytherins will find them. Think!” 

Peter takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Uhh...fourth floor. Fourth floor, okay, down to the Great Hall. We could take the east passage, down to the statue, out at Corridor 15…”

Lily’s barely paying attention. A deep, persistent ache starts to fill her chest, like she’s been struck. She curses, her hand flying to her stomach. “Something’s wrong with James. I can feel it.”

Marlene shrugs. “Crazy voodoo shit? I can roll with that.” 

“Shut up!” Dorcas hisses. From across the hallway, Lily sees Filch perk up, swinging his lantern towards them. “Peter, we have to go.  _ Now _ .”

Peter nods. “Follow me,” he whispers, and presses his hands to the wall.

~

Regulus sits beside Sirius’ bed. Around him, Pomfrey and McGonagall whisper, their eyes dark. Pomfrey twists a cloth in her hands, turning it into a hard rope, shaking her head as McGonagall hisses.

Regulus ignores them though, turning his attention to Sirius.

God, he looked so young. It was easy, in Regulus’ mind, easy to imagine him as some hero. A noble, brave, mythical creature, something that protected him from Mother’s wrath. Something larger than life, something untouchable, something that would never break.

Sirius’ hair is a mess, a dark, tangled cloud around his face. It brushes his shoulders, a mass of curls, soft around Regulus’ hands. 

He remembers the fight they had about it, him and his mother, the screaming match in the kitchen.

_ I demand you cut it at once _ , Walburga had screamed.  _ It is not fitting for a Black Heir. _

_ Well, fuck the Black Heir,  _ Sirius had said. _ I don’t want it. _

Regulus sighs.  _ Did we really mean so little to you _ , he thinks, but he already knows the answer.

He looks down at the bed. 16. Sirius was 16 now, one year older then Regulus. That year always felt like a lot though, stretching out between them. 

He swallows. Sirius was already taking Crucios when he was 13, more 3 years ago. Regulus had only experienced Crucio once, that agonizing, all encompassing pain. He had passed out, right then and there, on the kitchen floor while Sirius roared and Walburga laughed. 

Afterwards, lying in bed, he wondered. If he had passed out after one curse, then how did Sirius…?

Regulus took the pain he felt, multiplied by 2, by 3, over and over again until he shivered. He didn’t know how Sirius stayed conscious.

Regulus brushes the hair from Sirius’ face, letting his fingers ghost across his cheek.  _ You’re going to kill yourself _ , he thinks, something deep down inside of him cracking open.

There’s a pointed cough from behind him, and Regulus turns around. Pomfrey clears her throat. “Mr. Black - “

“Enough of this.” 

He remembers overhearing a group of Gryffindor last year, musing on who was the nosy terrifying teacher. 

“Oh no question,” one of them had said. “McGonagall.”

At the time, Regulus had scoffed, because clearly they had never seen his Mother in one of her moods. But now, standing underneath McGonagall’s glare, he finally understood.

“You will tell me,” McGonagall spits, “Why your brother has curse wounds all over his body. You will tell me why his muscles have been damaged from extensive use of Crucio, and  _ you will tell me the truth _ . Because I have fought many battle, Regulus, and I have seen veterans with less curse scars then your brother.”

Regulus takes a shaking breath. He curls his fingers around the ring on his hand, the crest and logo of his family.  _ What happens in this household is a secret. To reveal any of them will destroy you. _

“Regulus!” McGonagall is shouting now. Behind him, Sirius groans. “Regulus, this is dark magic. If you don’t tell me what happened,  _ we may not be able to save him.  _ Do you understand me?”

“I….”

Madame Pomfrey shakes her head. “This curse takes the dark magic already in his body and amplifies it. I need to know what curses have been used on him.”

Regulus swallows hard. “My mother. My mother did this to him.”

A crease forms between McGonagall’s forehead. “Walburga?”

Regulus closes his eyes. A bitter taste fills his throat, disgust mixed with relief because finally someone knew. “Yes. Crucio and Lacero and hundreds others that I don’t - “

McGonagall cuts him off. “Has she done this to you?”

Regulus looks down. He knows what will happen next. If he said yes, they would be removed. Walburga would be carted off to Azkaban, Orion as well. Sirius would be forced to manage everything, the heir of a family that had treated him like shit. Exchanging one set of shackles for another, forcing him into a role he didn’t want. 

Regulus looks down, at the sleeping figure of his brother, then looks up.

“No,” he says. “She never hurt me.”

 

~

The Wolf is hungry.

Starving, famished, ravenous. 

There are chains everywhere, on it’s legs and feet, binding it to the ground. Spikes line the inner ridges of the chains, just brushing against the Wolf’s ankles.

It snarls, remembering a time when those spikes sliced into it’s ankles, sending lines of pain up it’s leg. The Wolf growls at the chains, the moonlight elongating it’s shadow. 

It paws at the ground, wood splintering under it’s foot. There are stains on the ground, stains of blood, and the Wolf strains towards the mark.

_ Human _ . The word drifts across the Wolf’s mind.  _ It belongs to the Other. _

It scratches at the ground again, destroying the fragile wooden boards. Underneath is cold stone, digging into the Wolf’s paws. The sound of voices echo around the room, screams and shouts.  _ Prey _ .

_ Bite bite bite bite bite. _

There was nothing to bite.

The Wolf lets out a howl, throwing it’s body across the chains. The house rattles, making it snarl, but it doesn’t stop.

_ Hunger hunger hunger. _

_ Bite. _

 


End file.
